


Children at Play

by Moreena



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Bad Communication, Frottage, Kid Fic, M/M, Major life change, Oral Sex, Slice of Life, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 04:32:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8608033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moreena/pseuds/Moreena
Summary: Quatre's life is turned upside down when one of his sisters passes suddenly, leaving her nine-month old infant in Quatre's care.  He only meets his neighbor when the baby grabs Trowa's hair and won't let go.  It becomes a roller coaster called life as Quatre tries to navigate being a single father, and falling for the next door neighbor.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Saw a prompt for a kid fic of 'we only met because my baby grabbed your hair and won't let go, and I didn't tell you before-hand'. This is my take on it. Fic ran away on me again. Wanted something domestic, and something sort of realistic.

Trowa sighed as he twisted his key in his door and slipped inside his apartment. It had been a long day of fixing other people’s problems and doing labor. It wasn’t easy running an apartment building that had ten apartments in it. Something was always breaking, and there was always maintenance to be done on something. Not to mention the landscaping. It could be back-breaking work, but he loved it. He kept the building spotless and up to date. While they weren’t the fanciest apartments out there, they did cater to people with slightly higher incomes, which meant more improvements on the building itself.

The walls weren’t paper thin, but thin enough you could hear someone if they got a bit too loud for their own good. All he wanted was a shower, and a beer to go with dinner, maybe kick back with a little tv. But there were banging sounds coming from the apartment next door, followed by the occasional curse and another bang. That was strange, because the tenant who lived beside him was a pretty quiet guy. Trowa hadn’t met him yet personally, though he’d seen him now and again leaving for work. He was a slim blonde man, attractive in his own right in his business suits. A thin but round face, fit body, and legs that seemed to go on for days. So Trowa had looked. You couldn’t fault a man for staring at something that he found attractive.

His sister Cathy handled the new tenants usually, so that was why they’d never formally been introduced. In the three months he’d lived there, Trowa had only every heard the faint sounds of classical music coming through the wall, so all the banging was a surprise. But it wasn’t late enough for him to complain, so he shrugged it off and headed for the shower.

 

Duo cursed again, shaking his head, braid flying as he did so. The stupid instructions were practically backwards to him, and he was having a hell of a time putting together a simple changing table. He glanced over to see Heero just about done with the frame of the crib, and he cursed again, kicking the empty box his piece had come in. They’d agreed to do this for Quatre while he was handling all of the legal things with Wufei. It was the least they could do for their friend in such a time of need. Heero finished building and stood up, shaking his head at Duo’s progress.

“Need some help?” He asked, coming over to pluck the instructions from Duo’s fingers to check his progress.

“Ye-ah. I’m so glad we don’t have a kid. This shit sucks,” Duo said with a laugh, bumping their foreheads together.

“You wouldn’t know what to do with a kid. Go get the mattress and the other bedding. You can’t screw that up any more than this,” he teased with a shake of his head, already getting to work on finishing the table.

Duo rolled his eyes but did as asked, getting the crib all ready for its occupant, stepping back when he was done to survey his work. Heero finished the table and had it all set up as well. From the doorway, it looked almost like a nursery. It was just missing toys and a few touches. Touches that Quatre wouldn’t care about. Toys would be coming with the new addition.

“I’m glad we could at least do this for him. Poor guy must be out of his mind,” Duo admitted from the doorway, his and Heero’s shoulders bumping together.

Heero nodded. “Quatre’s strong. He’ll adjust, and we’ll help when we can.”

They cleaned up their mess and made sure everything looked good before they let themselves out, locking the door behind them. They’d be back in a few days with everything else the baby needed, and to child proof Quatre’s living space. He was enough of a mess without having to worry about those kinds of details.

 

Quatre was a mess. An emotional, nervous wreck of a mess. He ran a company! He didn’t have time to carve out of his life for a baby! It wasn’t even his! He put his head in his hands, fingers tugging hard at the blonde strands until the pain drove away the wave of emotions. He couldn’t think like that. It wasn’t his fault that Marina and her husband had died. It had been a car accident, and they’d both been killed instantly. Thankfully, their daughter Leyla had been at home with a babysitter. But, the call had come and woken Quatre from a dead sleep. Iria had called him crying… Told him he needed to be there immediately. So, he’d caught the first flight out and arrived to be with his two alive sisters, who’d held him and cried. They held the baby, their own children…

It had been a quick affair, Quatre as the head of the family setting up the arrangements. True to their wishes, they were buried quickly, in accordance with their religious views. Quatre could give them that at least. No, the shock had come at the attorney’s office three days after they were laid to rest. His sisters had gotten a sitter for all of the children, while the adults went to the lawyer. Marina and her husband had left everything to their daughter. Until she turned eighteen though, it was all given over to her guardian. 

The one they wanted to leave her to was Quatre… They had all been shocked with that. Any of the sisters would have been better! They had children! Knew what to do with them! Quatre didn’t have any experience with them, besides at family gatherings when he’d hold one of his nieces or nephews for a bit. But, everyone could see that he was uncomfortable with children, so he didn’t have to hold the younger ones for long. He did alright with children who could talk. They were slightly easier to deal with, because they could articulate needs. There was no way to turn it down. It was what Marina had wanted… So, Quatre had accepted, and accepted help from his sisters.

He’d called Wufei and had him on the next flight out to help do the legal work on his end, and had called Heero and Duo to explain the situation. They weren’t needed out there, but Heero offered to help get his house ready, so Quatre had ordered furniture and had shipped it on ahead, trusting his other friends to take care of things. Fuck, he didn’t know how to deal with children. Leyla was only nine months old, how did one care for a child that small?

 

Quatre was away for two weeks handling the legalities of adopting Leyla and filing all the necessary paperwork that came with it. He may have also offered to donate money to the agency handling the adoption if they’d expedite the process. Thankfully they had, because he had a business to get back to. It would run itself for the most part, but he still had things he needed to do.

“Call me Quatre. If things get rough, call me,” Iria said, hugging the blonde man close to her, patting his head.

At only 24 it was a huge responsibility for the man to take on caring for a child that wasn’t his own. Yes, her only brother had a support system in his friends, but none of them had children. She was worried that Quatre wouldn’t be able to handle it. That he’d crack under pressure and be forced to give little Leyla to one of them. But, she did know her brother. If anything, adversity like this only made him more determined to fight and succeed.

“You’ll do great Quatre. You’re a gentle soul. Leyla is in the most capable of hands,” Iria continued, kissing the top of his head.

“Come visit me next time you’re on the East Coast, alright?” He said, giving her a hug that was harder than necessary. 

He needed the comfort in that moment, because one he separated from her, he was going to be a father. A single father of a nine-month-old baby girl, with beautiful green eyes and soft blonde hair. She could pass for his own flesh and blood if one didn’t know any better.

“I’ll call before I come by,” she promised, kneeling down to press a kiss to the sleeping baby in the car seat next to her brother.

“Thanks Iria. I’ll call when I need help.”

He meant it. If he didn’t know what to do, he’d call. Iria had children and would know how to help him, even over the phone. Not that a two week crash course in child care hadn’t been enough. No, he’d already changed enough diapers and worn enough baby cereal to last a lifetime. Leyla was happy though, babbling away the entire time, only crying when she needed something, which was something of a relief. And, she slept mostly through the night. Six wasn’t his time to wake up, but it was now, and she was usually in bed for the night by six, so he had a good twelve hours to himself, if he got lucky. Shouldering his bag and the diaper bag, he bent down to pick up the car seat, shifting it to his dominant hand and waved at Iria, turning for security so he could catch his flight, and embark on his new journey.

 

Getting through security with an infant was a colossal nightmare. Now he knew why families waited until kids were mobile for vacations. He did get through it, grateful for the sympathetic security guards, and the couple behind him who didn’t rush him when he was slow. Once he was through, he fed Leyla at the gate, slipping a bib on her to help contain the mess. Iria and Eman had been very helpful and thorough in their teachings. She was content by the time they boarded, and he settled into his seat with her, grateful for first class leg room. Like all babies, she cried during takeoff, and wore herself out with her emotions. She slept for most of the flight, waking as they started their descent. She took a bottle, and settled herself, not fighting when they landed and Quatre had to strap her into her seat. He had a car waiting, and the driver got his luggage while Quatre strapped the seat into the car. The rest of the things that were coming from Marina’s house to him had already been sent along.

Climbing the stairs to his apartment weighted down with a child was hard. His arm was sore and ready to fall off, but he made it. Two am and it was dark as he opened the door, the driver helping him bring everything inside, nodding at him and the baby. Everyone on his staff had been informed, so no one could say they didn’t know. Quatre wanted all the help possible, from driving with her to keeping her near-by while he worked. 

Flipping on the lights, he brought a hand to his mouth, tears springing to his eyes. Heero and Duo and done more than Quatre had expected. There were baby gates blocking off the important rooms, corralling her into the living room and her bedroom. The lower shelves of his book cases had been cleared out, and the entertainment cabinet had child locks on the doors. He carried the car seat into her room and flipped the light on, his heart catching in his throat.

They’d painted the walls a soft shade of lavender, with pink and gold flowers. The crib and changing table were a dark charcoal wood to offset the brightness of the paint. Toys were set up around the room, and inside the crib was a soft looking brown bear. His friends had done so much for him… Carefully, he unstrapped Leyla and gently laid her in the crib, covering her with the blanket. She could spend the night in clothes. Slowly, he backed out of the room, turning the light off and leaving the door cracked so he could hear her cry.

 

They fell into a routine over the next few weeks. Up at six am for playing a breakfast, then off to Quatre’s office, and her to the day care provided by his building. That wasn’t a recent addition thankfully. He wanted the best for his employees, and if that meant having a place for those who needed day care, he’d do it. Quatre would work til about five, then he’d pick Leyla up from day care, her eyes lighting up the moment she spied Quatre through the large windows. She’d make grabby hands at him and babble until she was picked up, Quatre nuzzling at her cheek and giving her a kiss. Then he’d bundle her into her car seat and home they’d go. He’d make dinner, they’d eat, then a bath before she went to bed. It worked quite well.

Like all things, the peace wouldn’t last. One morning, around five, Leyla woke up screaming, startling Quatre awake almost instantly. Bleary-eyed, he stumbled into her room, flicking on the light. She was sick, herself and her bedding covered in throw up, sitting and reaching for Quatre with her tiny fists. Smiling sadly, he scooped her up and took her to the bathroom, running the tub, uncaring that he was getting covered in vomit. He stripped her soiled clothes away and set her in the tub, washing her gently, only keeping her in for as long as necessary. He re-dressed her and set her in the bouncer seat, methodically stripping the crib and putting on a new set. She was wide awake now, though she didn’t look as bright as usual. Quatre settled himself in for a long day with a sick infant, laying on her floor so he could be near her, dozing lightly.

 

Trowa hadn’t heard that sound in a long time. The distinct noise of a baby screaming and crying was something you never really could forget. He’d never heard a baby crying from any of the apartments before, and this was close. Close enough to wake him. The only family that had children had older kids, and lived on the first floor of the building. Groaning, he rolled himself over and sat up, annoyed, but planning to make the most of his day. The grass needed to be cut, and one of the washers down in the laundry room was on the fritz. He pulled on a pair of well-worn stained jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, fingers combing through his hair to set it to rights. By the time he’d eaten and had a cup of coffee, he felt more human, despite his early start. The baby cry was forgotten as he lost himself in the daily grind of fixing and doing things.

He'd forgotten all about it until he saw two men walk into the building and head right for the stairs. One was a darker haired brunette, tall with more muscle than Trowa had, and an icy blue gaze he’d only glimpsed, but it sent chills down his spine. The other was a shorter man with a long braid, and hair closer to his own shade. The shorter one had a bag from the local pharmacy in one hand, and a stuffed rabbit with a bow in the other. Trowa cocked a brow as he followed them up, heading for his own apartment. The guy with the braid was so loud it wasn’t like he was eavesdropping.

“I hope Leyla’s feeling better. Poor thing kept Quat up all day, wouldn’t even nap,” he was saying, knocking softly on the door next to Trowa’s own.

That icy blue gaze was on him again, and Trowa did his best to ignore it as he opened his own door and slipped inside, mind going a mile a minute. He’d never seen a woman next door. Was it a girlfriend? Trowa had gotten the distinct impression that the blonde man living next to him was gay. Couldn’t explain it, but he just didn’t seem like the type to have a girlfriend. It was a mystery he’d solve. Even if he had to stalk the blonde man in the apartment next to him.

 

His answer came just a few days later when he was coming up the stairs after a lengthy repair in one of the apartments downstairs. He was desperate for a shower even though he wasn’t all that dirty. No, the surprise came when he heard footsteps and turned to see the blonde coming up with two bags on one arm and a child in the other. He did a double take, emerald eyes staring intently at them. The look was so intense and hard, that the blonde actually looked over at him, looking tired and run down. The baby was babbling at him, gently bopping him on the cheek while he tried to unlock the door.

“Here, let me help you,” he said, moving forward automatically, fingers taking the keys from the blonde and sliding it home into the lock.

The way he was leaning over put his head at the right height for the baby, and she reached out with both hands, grabbing handfuls in both her tiny fists, babbling even more excitedly, if possible. The blonde sputtered, trying to apologize.

“I’m so sorry. She likes hair. I don’t know if she’ll let you go,” he said, giving the baby a gentle tug. 

It only made her hold on tighter, and Trowa winced slightly. He had no idea why children liked him, or even smiled at him. He didn’t always look friendly. Then again, he supposed children didn’t care about looks. They always seemed to have this sort of view right into an adult’s soul, and could tell good people from the bad with just a glance.

“Guess she likes me. If you shift her over I can take her. Maybe that will pry her hands out of my hair?”

“Good idea as any. She’ll eventually get bored with it,” the blonde said with a chuckle, carefully handing the baby over, only pulling his hands away when he was certain that the other man’s grasp was secure.

Then he pushed open the door and let the brunette walk in first, flipping the light on as he followed them. He set the bags on the table and turned to look at his wayward child, who hadn’t given up on the hair. She had one hand still tight in his bangs, while the other touched at his nose and cheeks, babbling seriously, like she was telling him the world’s biggest secret. The brunette had his emerald stare fixed on her face, regarding her as if she was any other person who could talk.

“I see. Keep going.” He said to her, smiling when her babble took on an excited edge, her legs kicking under the arm that held her. “We haven’t met. I’m Trowa.” He said, holding out his free hand to shake.

“Quatre. That little one is Leyla,” he said, indicating the baby.

“I didn’t know you had a child. I’ve never seen her before.”

Quatre tensed a little, visibly unwilling to talk about it.

“It was a surprise to me too.” Was all he said.

Moving towards them, he unzipped Leyla’s jacket and carefully pulled it off, both men grinning triumphantly when she relinquished her hold on Trowa’s hair. He took the opportunity to set her on the floor, watching her crawl away, heading for her room and he presumed toys. Now that he didn’t have the baby to hold, and he didn’t really have anything to say, he folded his arms across his chest and stood there, feeling like a bump on a log.

“How long have you had her?” He finally asked, watching the blonde move to the kitchen, closing the baby gate behind him, locking the child into her room and the living room.

“A month. She’s ten months old now,” he said, voice laden with sadness at the thought.

That made Trowa wonder. But, it wasn’t his place to say anything. He watched the other man move around his kitchen, his eyes roaming over his arms, his legs. He was a bit thinner than Trowa last remembered, but he supposed that came with the territory of having a child sprung onto you. He still looked good, and Trowa realized that he hadn’t gotten laid in a while. That had to be why he was looking at Quatre like he was a prime cut of meat. Shaking his head to clear away the thoughts, he headed for the door.

“Thanks again for your help. I normally don’t have a problem getting the door.”

“Not a problem. I’m glad I was around to help. She’s a cute kid. Looks just like you,” Trowa said with a nod as he showed himself out, ignoring the heavily weighted gaze he could feel that followed him out of the apartment.

 

There was something about the brunette that lived next to him. It irked at Quatre, like an itch that he couldn’t quite reach to scratch. It was like Trowa was constantly around whenever Quatre and Leyla left or came back. Even if it was just to say hello to both of them. Though he noticed that Trowa was careful to keep his hair away from the baby if it was early in the morning. It unnerved Quatre just a little.

Not that Trowa was hard to look at. No, if he had the time or the will, he’d have gladly invited Trowa over, and probably fallen into bed with him. It had been over a year since he’d last had a lover, or even a friend with benefits. WEI had really taken off last year and then just when things were winding down, the accident had happened, leaving him a single father of a child he hadn’t created. Life was funny like that some times.

In the middle of April, a week before Leyla turned a year old, Quatre had taken Leyla outside to play in the backyard of the building. In the middle of the grass was a large plastic turtle and a toddler-sized plastic slide set. Closer inspection revealed the turtle was full of sand and sand toys. Quatre had to wonder who’d done it. It hadn’t been him, and his friends wouldn’t have thought of doing it, despite that she’d be walking any day. Quatre was just waiting for it, his camera always at the ready to capture that moment, so he could share it. As he held Leyla and slid her down the slide over and over until his arms were tired and she was rubbing her eyes, Quatre racked his brain trying to figure out who would have done such a thing…

 

Duo had helped him plan the party. Thankfully it wouldn’t be everyone. Only Iria and her family could make it, along with Heero, Duo, and Wufei. It was enough for Quatre. Duo decorated the living room with pink streamers and balloons, while Heero actually took Leyla outside after taking one look at Quatre. He cited that the blonde needed a break and whisked the baby away to play. Quatre was grateful for the break, giving him time to finish the food he was cooking for the guests. Wufei was on his way with the cakes… It was going to be a fun time.

Everyone arrived and ate and drank, watching Leyla toddle around by holding the edge of the couch or the coffee table, before she’d fall down on her butt and look like she’d done the greatest thing ever, especially when people clapped for her. Quatre slipped out for a moment, walking next door and knocking on Trowa’s door. He answered after a long moment, Quatre almost ready to give up when he heard the lock click.

“Sorry to bother you. I… Leyla’s birthday is today. You’ve been so nice to her and I wanted to see if you’d like to come over. Have some food, some cake? Watch her open presents?”

He shifted nervously from foot to foot, while Trowa looked at him with that arresting stare, from behind his fall of bangs. Quatre wanted to push them aside, meet that emerald gaze with his own eyes, see if it was even more intense with both eyes instead of just one.

“Yeah, I’ll be right over. Let me put on some shoes.”

Quatre’s whole face lit up, and Trowa liked that look. He needed to do it more often. Quatre practically bounced back to his apartment, letting the others know. Duo knew. Duo knew more than he was letting on, that Quatre was rather smitten with the tall brunette that was coming over. But, like any friend, he didn’t say anything. That was Quatre’s secret to tell, not his. If he flashed Quatre a knowing look, Quatre didn’t say anything.

Iria took pictures while Quatre opened Leyla’s presents. She tried to help, but quickly lost interest with ripping paper, more content to play with the scraps. Or to play with Duo’s long braid, petting it lightly, like it was a friendly cat. Quatre thanked everyone, even if some of the gifts were a little strange, like Duo’s insistence she just HAD to have the hot pink Porsche 911 ride on Powerwheel. She wouldn’t be using that for two more years. Wufei had kindly provided a complete collection of fairy tales in a hard-bound copy so Quatre could read to her at night. Heero had gone practical and gotten her a child-sized desk and chair set, in the same color as her current bedroom furniture. Iria gave more clothes and diapers, giving Quatre a knowing grin.

“Sorry I didn’t get her anything. I didn’t know when her birthday actually was,” Trowa said to Quatre in private, while Quatre was getting the cakes ready.

“Don’t even worry about it. I figured you might like to have some company,” he said in reply, handing the smaller cake to Trowa, picking up the larger one for everyone else.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, following the blonde.

Cake was fun, though Leyla wound up wearing more of it than she ate. Quatre was grateful that he’d put a plastic tablecloth down on the floor under her high chair, or he’d have had to get a rug cleaner and hope that it came out. After cake, the party started to wind down Heero and Duo leaving first, Duo giving Quatre a saucy little wink. Quatre rolled his eyes and resumed talking to Iria, saying his goodbyes. She wouldn’t be able to see him again until Christmas. He hugged his niece and nephew tightly, handing them each a goody bag he’d made up before he hugged his sister one more time.

“He’s a cute man,” she whispered into his ear before she gave a laugh and kissed his cheek, showing herself and the kids out.

Wufei followed soon after, reminding Quatre that it wasn’t always easy working for him. He nodded at Trowa, telling him they’d have to get together again to continue their discussion. Quatre shook his head at them, wondering how that had happened.

“You don’t have to stay. I have to give Leyla a bath, then put her to bed. Won’t take more than twenty minutes,” Quatre said in offering.

“Go ahead. I’ll clean up a little.” The brunette offered in reply.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m leaving it for the morning,” he said, stripping Leyla of her shirt then picking her up and taking her to the bathroom.

True to his word, Quatre wasn’t gone long. Leyla was asleep while Quatre put her into her pjs and tucked her into her crib. When she was settled, he went right for the fridge and grabbed two beers, bring them into the living room and flopping on the couch, handing one over to the other man.

“Thanks for coming over. I’m sure it wasn’t that much fun,” Quatre admitted sadly.

“No, it was nice to see her, and to meet people. I am somewhat of a hermit,” he said with a laugh, taking a swig of his beer.

Quatre took his own swig, and leaned back, their thighs brushing as he sat. He glanced at Trowa out of the corner of his eye. The man was attractive to look at. He was tall, strong. Built rather nicely, if his fitted shirts and jeans were telling the truth. It had been a while since he’d gotten any kind of action. He really needed to fix that. But, did he want to risk the slowly forming friendship for a night of passion? He didn’t know if he could risk it. Or if Trowa would even be into the idea.

So, he pushed the idea to the very back of his mind and sat quietly, drinking at his beer. They talked of random things, Quatre doing most of the talking. It was natural, and Trowa was a good listener, nodding at appropriate moments. When their beers ran out, Trowa got them each another. And another. Quatre hadn’t had this much to drink since before Leyla. He didn’t prefer the taste of alcohol, but it went down a little easier since he was always busy and somewhat stressed. Three beers in, Quatre was leaning heavily onto Trowa, his head on the other man’s shoulder.

“Why have you been so friendly with me? It’s not because of Leyla,” he said.

Trowa froze for the briefest of seconds, his beer halfway to his lips when the question came. He looked at Quatre out of the corner of his eye and lowered his beer. How much would he remember in the morning? Well, he was halfway down the rabbit hole already. Quatre was leaning on him, his warmth making Trowa’s body hotter wherever he touched. Beer wasn’t helping with his decision, though Trowa could clearly hold his alcohol better than his blonde comrade.

 

“True, it’s not because of your kid. I’ve never entertained the thought of having any, given my tastes,” he said with a small shrug.

“Have you been flirting with me Trowa?” Quatre said, twisting his upper body to look Trowa in the face, aqua eyes sparkling with lust and impaired decisions.

The question snapped something in him. Something that he kept locked away. He was always so reserved and private in his daily life. When he actually did carve out time for things of a romantic or sensual nature, he was rather… Forceful and demanding. Gently, he pried Quatre’s bottle from his hand and set them both on the table in front of them. Grasping Quatre’s face in his hands, he pulled their faces together and kissed Quatre hard, nipping at his lips before soothing the hurt away with gentle flicks of his tongue. Quatre let out a little moan and Trowa pressed his advantage, forcing his tongue into Quatre’s mouth, licking at him, trying to taste every inch of him. As they kissed, Trowa pressed the blonde back, lowering him to the couch.

He settled himself between Quatre’s legs, looming over him. Quatre broke the kiss with a gasp, lips trying to form words, his throat unwilling to work. Pressing his advantage again, Trowa dove back in, assaulting Quatre with every skill he possessed, while his hips rocked determinedly against the smaller man under him. He swallowed down every moan and gasp Quatre let out, letting the other man rock his hips up, grinding their erections together. Trowa didn’t know how long he kept them at it, but at some point, he stopped kissing, just so he could savor the cries and little gasps Quatre let out as his orgasm rose higher and higher. They rocked together, sharing the same air, Quatre’s hands gripping Trowa’s shirt in tight fists.

“Ca-can’t.” He whispered.

He lasted maybe one more thrust against Trowa before he was moaning, biting at Trowa’s shoulder as he came in his pants, hips jerking weakly as he spent himself before collapsing against the couch, eyes hazy and unfocused. Trowa smirked down at him, giving his own last few thrusts before he let himself go, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. When he regained his breath, he locked gazes with Quatre and gave him a wink.

“Hope that answers your question,” he said, carefully pushing himself up and off the couch, grabbing both beer bottles and moving to the kitchen to get rid of them.

When he went back, Quatre was still lying there, one hand on his stomach, staring blindly at the ceiling, an odd but contented smile on his face. Oh, it had answered his question, and then some. 

“Yes. Yes it did,” he said softly, flashing Trowa a melting smile.

“I’m gonna head back to my place. I’ll see you later, alright?”

With that, he was gone, carefully closing the door behind him and heading to his own place, wondering just what the hell he’d done. And, how much Quatre would recall in the morning when he was sober and thinking clearly. He rested his forehead against the door, breathing deeply in his own apartment, his own scent. Nothing was going to erase the smell or taste of the blonde. No one else was going to feel as decadent as that lithe body underneath his. Trowa had truly gone and fucked himself.

 

Time passed, and Trowa came over to his apartment on a fairly regular basis. It was usually after Quatre had put the baby to bed, so they could talk… Or when Trowa pushed hard enough, they’d wind up making out on the couch. As much as Quatre wanted to sleep with Trowa, he was holding back. Hand jobs on the couch were as far as he was willing to go for the moment. His friends would say that he didn’t know how to have tangle-free lovers. Quatre was just a firm believer in having an emotional connection with whoever he was sleeping with. As much as he wanted to deny it, he was building that connection with Trowa. And, it wasn’t like Trowa was objecting. He went along with whatever Quatre seemed to want, content to wait, like a jungle cat stalking its prey.

 

It all seemed too good to be true. Like all things, there was a turning point. A point that made Quatre question what the hell he was doing. He didn’t need someone else in his life. He had himself and his daughter, and that was all that he needed. Trowa was sprawled out on his couch, his feet in Quatre’s lap while Quatre read through a folder of paperwork, determined to finish it so he’d have a lighter day tomorrow.

“I’ve been wondering Quat. You never mention where Leyla came from. Is she yours from some sordid affair that didn’t end well? Or some love child you didn’t know about, and the mother changed her mind? Or wanted your money?”

Quatre tensed, the pen in his hand moving away from the papers he held.

“Why does it matter? She’s mine, legally. That’s what matters.”

“It doesn’t matter, but I’d like to know. Can’t blame a guy for being curious,” Trowa said with a shrug. “Mother wanted blackmail huh?”

Now Quatre was angry. Something he didn’t let himself feel very often. He put his folder and pen down before he shoved Trowa’s feet off his lap and rose, glaring down at the lanky man. What business… What right did Trowa think he had to know it all, if Quatre didn’t want to tell him? They weren’t technically dating. They never left his apartment, or went out together. Never went out with Leyla.

“It’s none of your business Trowa. If it was that important to whatever ‘thing’ we have going on here, I’d tell you,” he said, voice rising as he gestured between them.

Swinging his legs up and over, Trowa sat there, flabbergasted at the abrupt change in the smaller blonde man. He’d never seen him this worked up. Clearly, Trowa had trodden on a landmine, that he hadn’t learned from last time he’d asked.

“Sorry Quat. I just figured knowing…”

“What? That knowing why she’s mine would be some colossal reveal? That it would magically connect us on some level that we haven’t reached yet? We’re not dating. We occasionally get one another off, without fucking. If you want to know so badly, then you need to try a different angle. Where Leyla comes from isn’t some game. She’s my family, and I only care about what’s best for her, and that includes not shouting her history from the mountains to anyone who asks.”

His face was red, his fingers curled into fists that were trembling by his sides. He paced away, making sure Leyla’s door was closed before he turned back, face to face with Trowa who was standing now, hands in his pockets as he faced Quatre.

“I think you need to leave, Trowa.” Quatre said, voice soft but still tinged with anger.

Nodding at him, Trowa simply walked past and left, closing the door behind him. Quatre followed and flipped the lock, resting against the door, shaking. He didn’t know if it was anger or sadness. He had actually been starting to fall for the brunette. Had started to care, to want to see him every day after work, when it was his Leyla-free time. Quatre had come to like him, his dry humor and his serious tones that came in waves. Why on earth had he done that? Started to give his heart over? He’d been such a fool. Whacking his head against the door seemed like a good idea, and he did it, figuring it might knock some sense into him. It didn’t, and he didn’t feel any better either.

 

Their fight lasted two days. Trowa didn’t try to come over, and if he did, Quatre pretended that he wasn’t home, or that he didn’t hear any knocks. At the end of the second day, Quatre had put Leyla to bed and then run outside to get rid of the trash. When he came back up, there was a bottle of a rich merlot wine on his welcome mat. No note, but he knew. It was Trowa’s way of apologizing and trying to smooth things over. Maybe he’d invite Trowa over tomorrow and they could drink it with dinner. Smiling brightly to himself, he hummed as he went back inside, locking the door.

 

He was coming home, Leyla on his hip, babbling away, asking him things in her speak, prompting him with ‘dada’ when he didn’t answer. Then he’d look at her and smile, and try to answer her as best as he could. He shifted her so he could get his keys into his hand right, arching a brow when he heard chatter coming from the landing. Clearing the top step, he was surprised to see Trowa leaning on the wall, talking with a pretty brunette woman. Her hair had more red to it, and she was much shorter than Trowa, but her eyes were bright and didn’t miss anything.

“You must be Quatre. I’m Cathy,” she said with a smile, offering out a hand for him to shake.

Switching Leyla to his other arm, he reached out and shook, giving her a smile.

“Nice to meet you Cathy. I’d love to chat, but this little one right here wants dinner at a certain time,” he said, kissing the tip of Leyla’s nose.

“Don’t let me keep you. I’m sure I’ll see you again,” she said with a cryptic little smile, before she turned towards Trowa. “You, I will see next week. Stay out of trouble.”

Leaning up, she kissed his cheek and he reciprocated the action, one hand resting at the small of her back. Quatre shoved his key in the lock and hurried inside, unwilling to subject himself to watching any more. The gift had been…? What had it been? A paltry offering? A goodbye? He scoffed and set Leyla down to play, flipping on the tv to her cartoons so he could work on dinner. He was angry all over again. Depressed. Had he really allowed himself to be blinded? Just two days of not talking and Trowa had already moved on, to a woman, at that. The more he stewed on it, the more he dropped into his own emotions. Grabbing his phone, he dialed up his best friend.

“Duo, I’m sorry. I need…” He paused, trying to swallow back the emotions that were rolling around in his mind.

“No problem Quat. Heero and I will be over in a bit. I’ll grab some beer,” he said gently, already having a rough gist of what was going on.

“Thanks Duo. I appreciate it,” he said gratefully.

Satisfied that things would pick up with a pep talk, some beers, and bad action movies, Quatre finished dinner quickly, settling Leyla to eat and feeding himself. She was a trooper, and seemed to sense that Quatre wasn’t at his usual. She was cuddly and affectionate while bathing and reading a bed time story. She was also well behaved, which wasn’t always an easy feat for one so young. He tucked her into bed and flipped on the baby monitor, closing her door all the way. As much as he loved Duo, he didn’t count on the braided man’s ability to keep his voice down. He took a moment to change his clothes, slipping into worn in jeans and a loose fitting grey shirt. Barefoot, he went about making popcorn and queueing up a few movies for them to watch.

Duo knocked once then pushed open the door, two twelve packs of beer in his hands, Heero bringing up the rear and closing the door. His stony face told Quatre he didn’t quite approve, but he’d listen, and do what he could if he needed. Beer down, Duo hugged Quatre tightly, ruffling his hair.

“Man troubles, right?”

At Quatre’s nod, he opened the box and popped the top off a beer and promptly handed it over. The blonde took a slow pull and set it down, sighing. Maybe he was reading too much into all of this. But, he was down the rabbit hole now, and he couldn’t see a way out. Half the beer went into the fridge, and the rest went with them into the living room. Heero took one end of the couch with Duo in the middle, and Quat at the other side. He talked, they listened.

“I think you’re reading too much into it dude. She’s probably a friend or something. As for the whole Leyla thing, well that’s your business. If you were dating him, like seriously dating. Like, dating as in one day hoping to be married and the white picket fence thing, then he’d deserve to know,” Duo said when Quatre had finished talking.

“As much as I hate to agree with Duo, I have to agree. Talk to the guy. That’s the best thing you can do,” Heero said, grabbing a handful of Duo’s braid to shut up his cawing at Heero agreeing with him for once.

“I know… I just, let my mind run away. Like usual.”

“Hey, your mind was right about that one chump, I’ll give you that,” Duo said, tipping his bottle towards the other man.

Laughing softly, Quatre took another swig, standing up and grabbing the empty bottles. He put them in the sink and turned on the water, wanting to rinse them out so they wouldn’t smell later in the morning. The universe had a sense of humor though. He opened the faucet and water instantly sprayed him right in the chest, soaking him. He barely managed to sputter before he was soaked, his thin shirt clinging to his body, dripping water all over his floor. Heero poked his head into the room and rolled his eyes.

“Call your landlord. I’ll grab some towels.”

Shaking his hands to rid them of excess water, he fumbled in his back pocket for his phone. He flipped through it, realizing he didn’t have a number for anyone but the woman he’d signed the lease with. He did recall her saying that there was someone who did repairs, but for lack of anyone else to call, he called her.

“Cathy speaking.”

“Hey Cathy, it’s Quatre, from 2B over in the Triton building. I have a bit of an issue. I went to use my kitchen faucet and it sort of exploded all over me,” he said, wiping his face with a towel that Heero handed him.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. I’ll call my brother and he’ll be right over to fix it.”

“I wouldn’t want to inconvenience him. Maintenance will be just fine.”

Cathy chuckled, and Quatre swore that there was something in her voice. But, the tone of her voice struck him as familiar, even as he tried to brush it away.

“Don’t worry Quatre. My brother is maintenance. He’ll be over soon,” she said before the line clicked dead.

“So, you wanna change, or should Heero and I leave? It could be one of those really bad pornos, from like the 90’s,” Duo said with a dark laugh.

Quatre rolled his eyes and finished drying off his face, dropping the towel to the floor to try and mop up some of the water there. About to open his mouth, there was a knock on the door. Even Heero arched an eye at that. No maintenance was that responsive. Not this late, on a Friday night. Giving his friends a quizzical look, Quatre went to the door and opened it, shirt still dripping wet, making a trail behind him. He opened it to find Trowa standing there with a metal toolbox in his hand, and a tentative smile on his lips.

Oh, it dawned on him. Seeing the brunette there, Duo nudged Heero, and Heero returned his devious smirk. She’d said her brother… That was why she’d sounded so familiar. It was the Cathy he’d met the other day… The one he assumed Trowa had just started seeing, with no thought to their… Whatever.

“Hey Quat, we’re gonna take off. Heero wants to go for a run early in the morning, and we both know he needs his beauty rest,” Duo chimed, already halfway towards the door.

Trowa moved into the apartment, clearing the way for the other men to leave, giving them a nod and a wave. He closed the door behind them and faced Quatre, who looked like a deer caught in the headlights. He looked torn between hiding and throwing himself at the brunette.

“So…. Cathy is your sister, hmm?”

“You never asked, I never volunteered. Didn’t seem like it was need to know information,” Trowa admitted with a little shrug.

“Thought you left the wine to say goodbye and had moved on to a woman.” Quatre said back, only a little nervous.

Would they just be neighbors? Would they fall back into a sexual thing again? He couldn’t read anything from Trowa’s expression, and that bothered him. He didn’t like to be adrift, wondering what ifs.

“I only asked about Leyla because I wanted to know. Things… Seemed to be heading towards more serious,” Trowa offered, moving deeper into the apartment to set his toolbox on the kitchen counter while Quatre watched.

That statement floored him. Made him vibrate with nerves. So, Trowa had wanted something more serious as well? Something other than just making out on a couch at night after the baby went to bed and they had the time?

“What kind of serious were you hoping for?”

Now it was Trowa’s turn to be silent for a moment. He was weighing his words, and it didn’t seem like he knew what he wanted to say. Leaning against the counter, Trowa folded his arms over his chest, regarding Quatre with a serious look.

“I was hoping for a date. Several, if things went well. We get along well here in your place, I figured it would translate outside your apartment too. I just knew how serious you were about Leyla, and didn’t know how receptive you’d be to the idea,” he finally said with a roll of his shoulders.

“Fuck. We really fucked up huh? Think we can fix it?” Quatre said with a laugh, peeling his shirt off and dropping it on the floor with the towel.

Staring, Trowa discreetly wiped his mouth, making sure he wasn’t drooling. It might have only been a few days, but the sight of Quatre with his shirt off made his blood run hotter. Nodding dumbly at Quatre, he crossed the kitchen, pulling their bodies flush together.

“We can fix it. Though I think we should relieve some tension first,” Trowa admitted, forcing his gaze upward to Quatre’s face, and off his abdomen.

He knew his face was a little flushed, but he couldn’t really bring himself to care. He’d waited months for this. To really find that connection, and let himself fall. It was like diving into the ocean, breaking the surface and holding your breath for as long as you physically could. And, when you came up for air, it was almost like being born again as you sucked in lungful after lungful of air and learned how to breathe again.

Quatre leaned up, his hands on Trowa’s shoulders for support, tipping his head backwards chin pointed up. Trowa met him half way, sealing their lips together tightly. His body sagged at the contact. Just a few days without touch and he was desperate for it. His fingernails raked down Quatre’s chest, leaving red lines in their wake. The blonde arched into the touch, letting out a low groan into Trowa’s mouth. He took full advantage, plundering with his tongue, teasing him, working him into a frenzy.

Quatre broke away, gasping in a gulp of air, his body flushed from cheeks to chest with arousal. Without saying anything, he grabbed one of Trowa’s wrists and pulled him through the apartment, past the couch in the living room to the little hallway that led to the last three rooms of the place. He stopped at the first door and pushed it open, flicking the light on, bathing the room in a soft glow. His bed dominated the room, heavy looking dark wood with a black and grey bedding set, several pillows tossed in an unused corner of the room. He held his breath, waiting on pins and needles for something to happen.

Trowa didn’t disappoint. He pulled Quatre closer to the bed, turning them so he would be the one to sit, giving him a smile as he pulled off his own shirt, giving Quatre a minute to take in his own view. Trowa worked hard to maintain his body, and he loved the way he looked. And, how it made his partners look at him. It would be the only respite that the blonde would get if he had anything to say about it. Pushing gently, Quatre fell back onto the bed, his hands catching him, legs still dangling off the edge.

“I hope you’re ready for me,” Trowa said, his voice a low rumbling purr.

With deft fingers, he flicked open Quatre’s jeans, the rasp of the zipper sounding loud in the stillness of the room. Quatre sucked in a breath, eyes never leaving Trowa as he opened his jeans, tugged at them until they slid down his hips enough to free his cock. Then his mouth descended, licking a wide, wet stripe from base to tip. That first taste was always the best, the one that never seemed to fade from memory. Just like he thought, Quatre tasted sweet. He seemed so innocent, but had his head on straight. It was something Trowa wanted to devour and keep to himself.

So, he did. Wrapping his lips over his teeth, he lowered his head and started sucking Quatre’s cock with long, slow sucks. Quatre fell back, his hands grasping at the sheet under him as he moaned, trying to keep his hips from thrusting up and choking the other man. Trowa didn’t mind either way, was confident enough in his own skills. So he sucked harder, tongue teasing at the tip of his cock as he worked at Quatre’s cock. The blonde cried out and arched, hips leaving the bed as much as they could from his odd position. Trowa pushed his advantage to pull Quatre’s jeans and boxers off in a single motion, leaving them on the floor where they fell. He worked Quatre over and over, using every lick and suck to his advantage. He drew Quatre close to the edge, until the blonde teetered so close he might fall over, before he dropped him down. Took him back from the edge and helped steady him with soothing kisses on his thighs, soft touches along his chest. 

He wanted Quatre to beg. To be nothing but a sobbing bundle of nerves that only came alive for his pleasure, under his touch. It didn’t take long after that first up and down of his almost orgasm. No, Quatre lost all control, his mouth open. Words falling in a torrent that didn’t make any sense. Please, Trowa’s name, anything. Quatre tried anything and everything, his lower lip swollen from biting down on it to try and control his voice. His chest heaved with the effort of breathing, his knuckles were white from gripping the sheets. And still he begged Trowa. To let him come, to fuck him. In his current state, he’d have given anything to Trowa, just so the brunette would let him come.

When Trowa had played with Quatre enough for the moment, he withdrew, watching Quatre’s body tremble and shake as he tried to adjust to the lack of sensation. He stood, his own movements fluid despite having been on his knees for what could have been hours. Pulling open a drawer on Quatre’s nightstand, he took his time surveying the contents, a thoughtful little smirk on his lips as he went about it. He closed that one and moved down to the second one, a little surprised at what he found inside.

“Oh Quatre, you and I are going to have fun one of these days,” he said, licking his lips.

Quatre had a small selection. Nothing too crazy, but enough that Trowa was confident that they could spend hours together, making Quatre scream and writhe… But, there on top was what Trowa had hoped he’d find. Pulling out the tube of lubricant, he nudged the draw closed with his leg, turning back to face the blonde. At some point while he’d been looking, Quatre had pulled himself onto the bed, his face pressed to a pillow, watching Trowa with an intense look. He’d gotten his knees under him, and was just waiting, fingers curled loosely around his cock, giving it slow, lazy strokes.

Yes, they were going to get along quite well, if Trowa had any opinion on it. He popped his own jeans open and kicked them off, already naked under them, much to Quatre’s approval. Crawling onto the bed, he pushed the comforter down and out of the way, settling himself between Quatre’s legs to admire the view. Blonde tousled hair across the pillows, the soft curves of his ass as it moved and swayed in time to his breathing. The way he could see his sac, and the jut of Quatre’s arm underneath as he continued to torment himself with those barely satisfying strokes. Opening the lube, he put some on his fingers and spread it, a single digit teasing up and down over Quatre’s hole, watching it clench and relax in time with the teasing touch.

“Did you do this after I left Quatre? Lay in your bed and get yourself off with your fingers? Or one of your toys, imagining it was me behind you, filling you up until your body couldn’t take another inch?”

He pressed the finger forward, watching as Quatre’s hole greedily sucked it in. Trowa let out a moan, watching how eager Quatre seemed to be for it. Without even waiting, he added a second finger to Quatre, watching his body slowly spread apart and take the intrusion. Quatre cried out, turning to bury his face in his pillow, hand falling away from his cock to clutch at the sheets.

“S-sometimes,” he managed to gasp out, trying to look back over his shoulder at Trowa.

Trying to convey his need, he rocked himself onto those fingers, using the grip on the bed as leverage to shove his ass backwards. Trowa was content to watch, to let Quatre work himself up, and open. It was such a pretty sight, he really only hoped that he could last long enough. Then again, he could probably get Quatre off once, have a chance to get his own desire under control, then get them both off. Putting a hand on Quatre’s hip, he stilled the other man so he could add more lube to his fingers before he started rocking a third finger inside of him, spreading them carefully, crooking them. When they were all the way in, he curled them and reached, satisfied when Quatre let out a low howl of delight.

“Want you to come for me Quatre. Take the edge off you,” Trowa said.

It was all the warning Quatre got before Trowa assaulted his prostate, fingers pressing and caressing over that little bundle of nerves endlessly. He was unrelenting, knew each touch was igniting all of Quatre’s nerves, sending him closer and closer to that edge. Quatre reached underneath himself again and let out a sharp cry as he suddenly came, his ass clenching down, muscles contracting as he came in spurts on his hand and the sheet under him. Trowa stilled his fingers, but didn’t remove them. Quatre would be sensitive right now, but not overly so if he didn’t move.

“Fuck,” Quatre whispered, his entire body shaking slightly. “Never had an orgasm that intense.”

Smirking, Trowa leaned over to press an open-mouthed kiss to Quatre’s temple. “I hope it to be the first of many.”

They both stayed like that, though Trowa had to wonder if Quatre’s knees were starting to cramp or loose feeling. But the blonde didn’t complain, so he didn’t bring it up. It didn’t take long for Quatre to recover, squeezing his inner muscles, starting to press himself backwards again. He let out a low moan and turned to look over his shoulder at Trowa, telling him what he wanted.

“Fuck me Trowa. Please.”

Trowa practically snarled at him, as he fumbled for the discarded lube, dumping more on his hand than he needed. Uncaring, he smoothed the liquid over his cock, wiping the excess on the sheet. Shuffling closer to Quatre, he held the base of his cock in one hand, inhaling deeply to calm his own nerves. He didn’t want to end this quickly. With agonizing slowness, he watched as the head of his cock breeched Quatre’s hole. Quatre took it so well, moaning and begging for it faster, trying to take it all in. Letting go of his cock, he shifted his grip to Quatre’s hip, holding them hard enough to bruise. He wouldn’t let the blonde do anything drastic or injure himself the first time. They could do rough play later. Trowa kept pushing, working himself in inch by inch, claiming every bit of Quatre as he went.

When Trowa was fully seated inside the blonde, Trowa let out a low breath of air, leaning over to nip at the back of Quatre’s neck. Quatre let out a low moan, rotating his hips as much as Trowa’s grip allowed him to.

“You ready now?” Trowa asked, licking at the same spot he’d just bitten.

Quatre nodded and reached a hand out to brace himself on the headboard of the bed. He wanted it, and he was damned determined to have it. Pulling back, Trowa gave a shallow thrust, gauging for himself how ready the smaller man was. Satisfied with the way his body hugged him, Trowa began to thrust into him, keeping his iron-tight grip. He pulled Quatre back onto his cock, filled him with each hard inch. Quatre moaned and writhed under Trowa, knocking pillows aside, thighs trembling as he tried to keep himself in that perfect position. 

They lost themselves in the chase for their orgasms, the slapping of skin as their bodies connected. It was erotic and maddening. Trowa fed off every cry and gasp that left Quatre’s lips, his arousal only burning hotter the longer he was able to fuck the blonde man. It couldn’t last forever, and even Trowa’s iron control was slipping.

“Touch yourself Quatre. I’m not gonna last much longer,” he gasped out.

Trowa shoved himself in hard, jarring the head of his cock against Quatre’s prostate. The blonde screamed, his fingers barely wrapping around his cock before he was coming in long pulses, the pillow muffling his voice. Trowa let out a long groan, shoving himself in deep once more before he let himself come, cock twitching and pulsing inside the blonde, filling him with his own release. After long moments, he carefully withdrew and moved aside, giving Quatre a chance to move. The blond pushed his legs out with a grateful sigh, uncaring that he was stomach down in his own wet spot. He’d care more when he could actually move.

“I’ll go grab a towel,” Trowa said helpfully, giving Quatre’s back a gentle caress.

Quatre hummed in agreement, still too blissed out to really have an opinion. He laid there, feeling like he was floating on air, even when Trowa came back in, a wet cloth in one hand and a fluffy towel in the other. He helped Quatre roll onto his back so he could clean him off, then wiped at the bed. Laying the towel down, he helped Quatre roll back over before he climbed back into the bed. He didn’t want to assume anything, but he was hopeful.

“You can stay. I’m all for that,” he said, leaning down to grab the comforter and pull it up over them.

Trowa reached down to help, settling back onto a recovered pillow. Quatre’s bed was more comfortable than any bed had the right to be. Whatever the man had did, Trowa had to find out, so he could do more to his own bed. Rolling over to face him, Quatre gave a little grin.

“Leyla is… Was my sister’s daughter. She and her husband were in an accident, and they left her to me, which was a shock. I was afraid at first. Afraid to be a single parent, and a parent at all, since I’d never entertained the idea of having kids. But, I think I’ve done pretty well, all things considered.”

Trowa snapped his fingers. “Damn, I was really hoping my idea of the mother wanting money in exchange for the baby was right,” he joked.

“Nope. Nothing that scandalous. Wufei helped with the legal work, since he’s my lawyer, and I didn’t have to change her last name. My sister kept her name, and they gave the baby it as well. Name is pretty well connected after all,” he said with a shrug.

“Well I suppose that makes it easy. Though I don’t know many men our age that have lawyers on call for things like that.”

“I need one almost daily. Wouldn’t be where I am without Wufei. WEI wouldn’t be the company it is today without all the best help I could get.”

Trowa sat up, green eyes burning down into Quatre’s, staring at him as if he had three heads.

“WEI as in Winner Enterprises?” He asked, voice barely a whisper.

It was Quatre’s turn to smile and he knelt up, the blanket falling away, his own smile turning devious, fixated on the brunette next to him.

“How’s it feel to have slept with the CEO of one of the hottest growing corporations?”

Visibly swallowing, Trowa pulled him in for a hot kiss, one hand tangled in the hair at the back of Quatre’s head. When he broke away, he urged Quatre to lay down next to him, pulling the blankets back up.

“Like I’m going to have to do it again, as often as said CEO lets me. And, I better spoil his daughter so I’m always on his good side.”

Quatre laughed and shifted closer, his head on his own pillow, arm draped across Trowa’s stomach as he laid there.

“Sounds like a good idea. Good thing my daughter likes you,” Quatre said with a yawn.

He didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, or even the days after. But, it all seemed a little more bearable with his daughter, and perhaps with Trowa by his side. Yes, his life had certainly gone in an unknown direction, but he wouldn’t trade it for the world. No, he was happier than he’d ever been.

**Author's Note:**

> [My Tumblr](http://moonsandrock.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Send me fic requests or asks!


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